Her Hair
by foxe165
Summary: Like father, like son; like godfather, like godson. History repeats itself, with a twist, as Gryffindors fall in love while Slytherins watch from the shadows. There's something about those Muggleborns that enchant the lightest and darkest of hearts. Must be the hair. H/Hr, L/J, with unrequited Draco and Severus.
1. Year 1

A/N: So this is my first story in about two years, please be kind. It's going to have eight chapters total, seven years with an epilogue for each story! The pairings will be Harry/Hermione, James/Lily, with unrequited! Draco and Severus. This will be a short story! I don't plan on it following canon chronologically for each person's view, it'll bounce from the beginning to the end of the year. Enjoy!

* * *

 _1991 – Draco Malfoy_

The first time he sees her hair, he notices it with curiosity.

How heavy were the thick curls that sat massively upon her head? Did the frizz block her sight? Could she properly hear the words of anyone around her? It seems to consume her entire upper body, despite being just barely past her shoulders.

Draco fingers her own locks subconsciously. Did she walk around precariously, so not to damage her neck if the weight was too much on one side? Was she constantly sweating in the summer months because of the curtain trapping the heat? It was strange to see such a large amount of bushy curls on an admittedly small girl.

It wasn't like Draco particularly looked at anything but the hair, though he did notice she was muttering underneath her breath as stupid Potter and poor Weasley shared a glance, observing the same. He cocked a brow as the curls quivered and bounced even when she halted; Draco barely managed to stop before he ran into the black-haired girl in front of him, he was so distracted.

It was then he decided that her hair made her a strange creature.

It was after her name that he decided she was a lesser, but still strange, creature.

* * *

 _1969 – Severus Snape_

The first time he sees her hair, he's immediately enchanted by its rich color.

He can't decide if it's an exceptionally dark blood-red or a deep auburn; either way, it's the most interesting when it swishes across her back. Her eyes are piercing, like sharp emeralds, undoubtedly beautiful.

But Severus finds himself drawn to her hair over anything.

"Will it matter, Severus?" the young girl asks nervously. "My blood? You said there are purebloods, will it matter to them?"

His attention is completely on her strands, curling at the ends where they rest halfway to her waist.

"Not at all."

* * *

 _1991 – Harry Potter_

The first time he sees her hair, he shrinks back with fear of it flying into his face.

He notices she appears taller than either himself or Ron, but vaguely notes it might simply be because of the mass disguising as hair. He can hardly tell someone this, let alone her, since his own locks were messy and usually sticking up like he'd slept on it wrong.

She barges in, demanding to know if either of the boys had seen a toad, of all things. Things go from strange to bad once Ron's spell turns out to be a dud and she comments honestly. Harry _just_ manages to hold back a snort when she points out the smudge of dirt on his new friend's nose. She somehow made it sound prim and smug at the same time. Ron groans when she gets sorted into Gryffindor, but he doesn't do more than grunt noncommittedly.

He decides she's strange when she thrusts her hand into the air after Snape asks impossible questions of a first-year.

He decides her hair is a bit lighter than he first realized, more like a milky chocolate, when she solves the Potion master's riddle with ease.

* * *

 _1971 – James Potter_

The first time he sees her hair, he wonders briefly if she's related to the Weasley's.

The longer he watches her the more he's entertained by her anger. She's got a decent face, much better than most of the girls his mother's friends bring around the manor, but her hair is what he notices first. It's dark, deep red, more like the color of the roses the elves keep fresh on the dining table. It's funny, as he'll laugh later on with Sirius about, that she resembles Christmas.

James chuckles as she jumps up and storms out with her friend, the git he immediately dislikes.

"Later, Snivellus!"


	2. Year 2

_1992 – Draco Malfoy_

He sees her hair first when he looks into the almost-empty compartment.

He barrels in, smirking when she shrieks and drops her half-read book to the floor. Her curls swish around her face and she splutters; that causes more hair to be sucked in to her mouth. It brings a vindictive pang to his gut as her cheeks flood a bright red.

"Alright there, Granger?" he drawls, fully aware of the cocky tone his voice has taken. She glares as the embarrassment fades and turns to indignation. This is what he enjoys, what he was hoping for: her anger. Her hair practically sparks when he gets her angry enough and he _lives_ to make her mad enough.

She responds predictably, just like a Gryffindor would. " _Shove off_ , Malfoy!"

Draco bares his teeth, nearly grinning. "All by your lonesome, there Granger? Scarhead and Weasel smart up and ditch you as their walking dictionary?"

The brunette flushes, although with rage or hurt he's unsure. Crabbe and Goyle are gruff in their amusement and annoyance flits across his features over their stupidity. Granger might be of lesser blood, but she had her uses for the young heir.

"We won't keep you then," he says, already backing out of the cabin. "Cheers, bucktooth!"

It's then he notices the lighter streaks mixed into the bushy mass as they rustle around when she shakes her head, enraged.

It's then he promises to do everything he can to reference her oversized smile: it seems to be a sore spot for the girl.

 _1972 – Severus Snape_

He sees her hair first when he catches himself after nearly falling through the barrier to 9 and ¾.

It's bittersweet for her, he knows, since her family can't accompany her onto the platform. His own father can't join him and his mother, although he can't really bring himself to feel anything but relief for that. There truly were small miracles, Severus believed.

After saying his goodbyes to his mother, a long-defeated woman, he finds himself smiling as Lily beams at him.

"Sev!" she squeals, launching her arms around his neck and latching on. He lets out a low chuckle and places his hands on the middle of her back. He's sure his face is glowing by now.

"Aw," a mocking tone catches the attention of the pair. Severus bites out a groan. "How cute. Snivellus and his minder. Isn't it sweet, James?"

Potter grins as he glances at Black in amusement. "The best, mate. Though, I wonder, does Evans mind the inevitable grease marks she'll have on her clothes once she lets go?"

Severus glares and draws his wand as Lily whirls around, face alight with indignation.

He notices that Potter's grin has turned a bit smug.

 _1992 – Harry Potter_

He sees his hair halfway down the hospital wing.

It's his fault, really, for believing that Malfoy could've possibly been the Heir of Slytherin. She's brilliant and so naturally he hadn't doubted her ability to brew the Polyjuice Potion, even with her warnings of it being exceptionally difficult. He convinced her of his ideas and now she had a tail.

A _flicking,_ bushy tail.

He blinks, stopping short when he finally spots the small matching ears.

"Mr. Potter! Miss Granger needs her rest!" the matron shouts, barreling out of her office. Harry still finds himself frozen. "Visiting hours ended twelve minutes ago! Mr. Potter, did you hear me?"

He manages to get five minutes to speak with Hermione, after about eight minutes of debate with Madam Pompfrey. She's lying on her side with her back facing him. After nearly two minutes, she acknowledges him with a low voice.

"It was stupid of me, really."

He blinks. Sure, he's heard her berate herself during their exams the prior year, but this was a rather understandable mistake. He tells her so, but she hardly believes him. Harry's lips twitch when her tail swishes angrily.

Later in the year when he visits her, ironically in the same bed, he touches her. It's been almost a month and the Hufflepuff Head has almost finished growing the mandrakes required for her recovery.

Harry finds it odd that even in petrification she knows everything, when he finally feels the crumpled paper in her hand.

It's later, long after saving Ginny Weasley and returning with Ron and Lockhart to the surface, that he learns the potion is finished.

It's later when her arms are around his neck and he's being hugged for the first time that Harry finds her hair is softer than it looks.

 _1972 – James Potter_

He sees her hair and he swears his heart skips a beat.

Then he spots the greasy black next to her and his eyes narrow.

"Fancy annoying a prat?" he murmurs to the boy next to him. Sirius turns to search for the Slytherin, of whom he's positive James is talking about. His predatory smirk is all the Potter needs to take off towards their classmates. Sirius goads the pair the second they're within an appropriate distance, not quite understanding his friend's interest in the girl but nevertheless enjoying a good putdown. All it takes is a comment from James and Lily turns, enraged, and the wild-haired boy smiles.

He loved it when the girl put her full attention towards him, even if it meant he had to drive her mad.


	3. Year 3

_1993 – Draco Malfoy_

It's easy to spot her hair, the absolute crazy mane that it was, when he's leading the lumbering thugs he cares nothing for around.

She's with the weasel staring at the Shrieking Shack, murmuring despite the decrepit home not being a living thing with the ability to hear. There's a spark of anger is his grey eyes as the boy awkwardly sidles up next to her. The Weasley's weren't rich like his family. It wasn't like the idiot could provide anything to her. Draco never could understand her taste in friends.

He tells her so.

Naturally, because of his luck, a snowball hits him square in the face and suddenly the Malfoy heir is wondering if the shack truly is haunted as his legs give out underneath him and he's yanked halfway down the path.

It's because of anger and embarrassment, but mostly embarrassment at hearing her hearty laugh, that he storms off, shouting obscenities and calling the girl with the hair mudblood.

He wonders later in the year how he hadn't noticed her eyes.

Sure, it's obvious that she _has_ eyes, he's not stupid after all. But he's never stopped to take a real look at the things. They're brown. Not brown, though, he amends as sparks seem to shoot from her hair. More of a whiskey color, like the kind his father drinks at night while tiredly rubbing his face as Draco rants about _mudblood_ Granger and her dumb hair. Her eyes are alight with fury and he finds himself almost as intrigued by those as he is her mane.

 _Almost._

It's funny the thoughts that go through his mind as he watches her hand fly towards his face.

He sees her later when they're all hopping off the train to the crowd of loved ones. His father had been late, citing meeting old friends, and the excited glint has Draco wondering just what his father was planning. He hoped it wouldn't interfere with their ability to go to the Quidditch World Cup later in the summer. He's just passed through the barrier when he spots her again, this time happily in the arms of a man and woman.

The woman has similar frizzy curls to Granger, yet the color is all wrong, it's too dark and flat with no life to the strands. The man has a small resemblance to his classmate, but it's the obvious affection in his eyes that catches the Malfoy boy's attention. He'd seen it only in his mother's eyes and even then it's short and quick and over before he can memorize the look.

He watches as Potter strides over after being called by the girl with the hair he so enjoyed watching spark in her anger. The scar-headed boy gives a small wave before he's swept into the muggle woman's arms and Draco watches nothing but Granger's expression.

His gaze darkens as he notes the tiny blush on her cheeks.

* * *

 _1973 – Severus Snape_

It's easy to spot her hair, after all no one has quite the same color.

She's walking through the corridors with her friends from her house, deftly ignoring Potter as he strides behind her with his own friends. He has difficultly ignoring the longing look in the git's eyes as they trail after his love.

And its love, what he feels for Lily, he's sure of it. While they might only be thirteen (well, in his case, after all her birthday is in January) he knows his heart and it belongs to the darker-haired beauty.

She laughs, throwing her head back with her books clutched to her chest. The sound brings a smile to his lips, but only a small one. He's with his housemates, after all, and they've never approved of his friendship with the muggleborn. It's getting difficult with his growing interest in the darker arts and affection for the "lesser" blooded girl.

Not that Lily knows of his attraction to the illegal knowledge.

He's heard the rumors, of course. He knows what Lucius Malfoy, who graduated this past year, is getting up to with his fiancé's brother-in-law. He knows of the whispers the professors make when no students are around.

The Dark Lord.

It's an appealing thought, he can admit. Being the most powerful, most revered wizard in the world. Maybe Lily would look at him differently. Maybe she wouldn't give Potter curious looks when he's assisting Pettigrew with his schoolwork, or goofing around with Black when he gets howlers from his family, or spooning heaps of food onto Lupin's plate after he's gotten over one of his illnesses.

His eyes darken as she stumbles, spilling her books and parchment all over the stone floor, only to have Potter pounce quickly to assist the Gryffindor girl with collecting her things.

She spares the boy small, but grateful smile.

* * *

 _1993 – Harry Potter_

It's easy to spot her hair from underneath the pile of blankets, parchment, and books.

She's barely hanging on the couch, which can slightly be seen when it's not blocked by her sprawled form. A gold chain dangles from her neck and she jumps when he lays a concerned hand on her forearm. His lips twitch when she babbles excuses about Arithmancy being too exciting and losing track of time. It's not as though he's going to yell at her for sleeping, he's just worried that she's working herself too hard.

He tells her so.

It's not until they get to breakfast with Ron (who completely ignores the pair in favor of searching the air for traces of food) that he can get her to take a breath. She's been adamantly protesting her inability to keep up with classes and scolding him for not taking his classes more seriously. Harry feels a brief flash of something as he notices how her frizzy curls frame her face and it's then he realizes she'd been growing it out: it now sits past her shoulder blades when pushed back. But then they're sitting down and that thought leaves his mind completely when the owl lands in front of him, a broomstick by the looks of the wrapping.

It takes several months before he apologizes and he feels _horrid_ when he sees how withdrawn she's become. He then vows to spend more time with Hermione, even choosing to leave Ron with his brothers when he sneaks out to meet them at Hogsmeade. He takes her to Honeydukes, by takes he means follows her under his cloak, and slips her a few galleons to purchase whatever she wants.

The beaming grin he receives makes his heart beat just a bit faster. He feels a bit lighter, not worrying about Sirius Black for the first time all year, and so he suggests they go to the bookshop down the alley. Her answering smile is so bright it makes him giddy. It's this memory he uses to create his Patronus when he's being swarmed by Dementors while standing over the very same Sirius Black he'd previously hated. Before he passes out, he notes the stag galloping over the icy lake; it makes him think of his father, how much he loved his mother, according to Professor Lupin.

The stag brings Hermione's face across his thoughts before he loses consciousness.

Naturally, she joins him to save Sirius. She's brilliant, scarily so, and he can't help but be astounded that she hadn't lost her marbles with all the time travelling she'd done. Her arms grip is waist tightly and her hair somehow flies into his face, even though the wind is going the opposite direction.

When he meets her parents after the year is over, he's surprised to find that she doesn't resemble them much with her hair or eyes. Every other feature is pretty much her mother's, though. The button nose, thin upper lip, curved jaw, and sharp cheekbones. But they don't have the same hair; where Hermione's is wild, her parent's are tame. Hermione's is bright, her parent's are dull. Hermione's sparks with her anger, her excitement, her happiness, along with her eyes, which are expressive and understanding.

He notices a flash of white blond hair across the platform and narrows his gaze when he sees the Slytherin is watching her as well.

Harry's eyes darken as he takes note of the intense, longing expression the Malfoy is wearing.

* * *

 _1973 – James Potter_

It's easy to spot her hair in the great hall.

In a sea of blond and brown and black, she stands out easily from the others. The only ones that share the red are the Prewett twins, but hers is so much deeper and shiner than theirs.

He's long realized his attraction to the witch and has since spent every day pranking her, making fun of Snivellus, pulling her braids, throwing notes at her face, doing everything he can to get her attention. It never seems to do anything but enrage her, but James is deluded in his love and believes that anger is a passionate emotion.

And it's surely love for the Potter heir, as he likes to tell everyone close to him.

He's been punched by his friends, lightly tapped in the face by his mother (to check for a love potion, to be fair), laughed at by his father, and ignored by the witch herself.

But James loves Lily and one-day Lily will love James.

At least, according to James she will.

His eyes darken at the thought.

Lily loving James.

Lily _Evans_ loving James _Potter._

Sirius has to resort to tossing the jug of pumpkin juice on his face to revive him after he's passed out at the illustrious thought.

He grins at the red-head, opening his mouth to ask her on a date. All that comes out is a small trickle of residual juice from the attack by his friend. He doesn't care when the table explodes in laughter. She might be chuckling, but her emerald eyes are sparkling with concern and she frowns slightly, as if to inquire on his health.

She pushes a rose colored strand behind her ear.

 _Lily Potter._

He smirks and stands again, intent on making that happen.


	4. Year 4

Not sure how to delete this! Updating on my phone, will post when it's actually ready this afternoon.


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